Changes and Rejection
by Surviving Insanity
Summary: When Sarah comes back, no one believes her. She changes into someone not reconizable. She says the wrong words that bring back what she was told was a dream. Jareth/Sarah Oneshot Just one little spot of violence.


This is my second Labyrinth fan fiction! Again, it's about Sarah and Jareth. It's like the only pairing in the movie! touchy

Who would fall in love with a puppet? I cannot see Sarah and Hobble getting together.

His name is Hoggle.

Whatever. His name does not matter. He is a lowly servant of a single kingdom. And he betrayed his king. He should have been executed for helping a human girl win.

That's horrible! How could you think like that?

It is my nature, girlie.

Give them the disclaimer, you pompous ass.

No need to be delicate. Maeven does not own the Labyrinth or anything remotely close. She only owns the idea.

Thank you, Zaric. Now, on with the story!

* * *

After she got back to from the labyrinth, she told everyone everything. Her newfound friends, the goblins, the Goblin King. No one believed her. They thought that she had made up a story from being in her own little world. But she kept insisting that it happened.

When her father told her that she had just dreamt it after reading that 'bedtime story' once too many times. This caused her to snap.

She changed. She changed so fast and drastically that almost no one could visualize that she was a girl who loved the fantasy world.

She became something else. Like a broken soul trapped in a clay prison. She became gloomy and withdrawn. She looked upon the world through a doll's eyes. She used to be the outgoing sunny girl that would light up the room as soon as she entered it; that girl was replaced with a cold-hearted person who darkened the mood.

She stopped being nice. She stopped talking. She stopped being a friend. She stopped laughing. She stopped smiling. She stopped having any emotion. Worst of all, she stopped believing.

(*)

The day Sarah Williams turned twenty-five, her remaining friends, who refused to let go, threw her a surprise birthday party. They had expected her to smile like before, when they did this kind of thing, but this time it was different. Not really a shocker. When they yelled 'surprise', she looked around at the nauseously cheerful decorations only fit for a five year old and didn't say anything.

After the friends started to get bored with the mind-numbing party, the cake was pulled out. It was decorated with pink frosting with Green Lantern candles. The birthday song was sung and Sarah was told to make a wish before blowing out the candles.

"I don't believe in wishes," was the reply. And yet, in the back of her mind, a little voice that she hadn't heard from in a while told her to take it back and apologize before something happened. She made an ill-advised choice and disregarded the forewarning.

After the party became too sluggish and dreadful, Sarah's remaining friends departed for their own homes. She was left alone. Yet again, the voice in the back of her head said that it wasn't too late to retract what she said. She then proceed to say that nothing would be affected by her words. Then the voice argued back that words are what got her into that mess so long ago. She overlooked it once more for she was weary of it nagging at her.

She hadn't bothered to listen to the nagging voice, which was made to become aware of being watched. She hadn't bothered to even perceive that she was watched that particular second she decided to reject wishes.

Sarah looked up at the clock and signed. It was midnight with nothing on TV. She didn't want to go to bed just yet. Something was keeping her aware of her environment. Something was making her take notice and linger for something to come along and alter her for a second time. She signed.

She stood up from the loveseat for she was going to bed. From nowhere, a laugh was heard. Maybe one of her tenacious friends who decided to play a spiteful joke on her.

Sarah whips around to discover the owner of the laugh. No one was there. The voice makes existence noticed once again by taunting that 'it told you so'!

"No," whispers Sarah.

Sarah jumped: something was scratching at the window from behind her. She doesn't even want to turn around to see what exactly is making that horrifying, memorable clamor.

"No," was whispered redundantly.

Mocking, teasing laughter is heard through out the room now. Sarah wants to veil herself but stands fixed to the floor; facing away from the window that she knew that she should have properly latched. It's like the laughter makes her feel trapped, caged like a wild animal desperate to make it's escape.

The window is forced open with a bang. She dares not turn around to confront the topic of her dreams. Sarah, at this moment, knows that she condemned herself when she uttered those not-so-innocent words. And she can't back out of it.

"My dear, little Sarah," purred the dangerous voice, that could lure anyone to do it's bidding, in her right ear, "are you sure that you don't believe in wishes?"

She wanted him to do away with himself. She did not him in her homely flat. So she said the only thing that she could come up with that would have worked before. "You are not real."

Sarah could feel him stiffen in astonish. Her words did nothing but annoy the beast. He settled for sarcasm and coldness first. "Really, Sarah? That's not what you said ten years ago."

"You are not real," was repeated again in a monotone voice. Now the beast was angry.

His voice became poker-hot and angered. "Let me show you then, girl."

Sarah felt leather-clad hands take hold of her and twist her around to face her captor. Her captor was a tall man with mismatched eyes and wild blonde hair. No, not man. Fae.

She lost it. She pulled back her hand and slapped the soft skin of the mirage's cheek. Instead of speaking in her practiced monotone voice, she shrieks "YOU ARE NOT REAL!"

She collapses in his arms and starts to sob brokenly. She cries for all the times that no one believed her. She sobs for all the times she was told it wasn't real. And finally, she mourns the loss of her wasted time of not being herself.

He now realizes that she has changed. She has changed so much and so fast that she didn't have the normal time to adjust properly. "Oh Darling," he coos. She wonders briefly when they had moved on to pet names. "I'm as real as you want me to be. You don't have to pretend anymore. I'll take care of you. We are going home now, alright?"

She looks up into his face and smiles sadly. His heart aches for what has happened to her as he wipes tears off of her flushed cheeks. She closes her eyes and leans into his hand. He takes this as a yes, arranges her so he is carrying her bridle-style with her face hidden in his neck. He feels her breath slow down as she slips into a nap. H smiles a tender smile before squeezing her gently to rouse her.

"I am taking you to where you rightfully belong, alright?"

"Alright," She starts to doze off again but her tenderly shakes her awake.

"Not quite yet Sarah," He could feel her annoyance at him for not letting her sleep. He smirks that bone-warming smirk. "You have to say the right words."

She stiffens but instantly relaxes when she realizes that he is still holding her.

"I wish the goblins will come and take me. Right now." Her repeated words from ten years ago send a shiver up his spine.

"Good girl," He murmurs. She signs a content sign and falls into a deep, dreamless slumber. He chuckles. And in one moment, there is a shower of glitter falling from the air where the Goblin King Jareth and Goblin Queen Sarah occupied the empty space of the bare lounge of the unattractive apartment in the ugly city of Chicago.

The next day, when a woman came to the apartment, she found it empty. She shrugged, turned around, closed the front door and carried on though her uninteresting day. No one heard from the formally known as Sarah Williams again.

The End

* * *

Did you like it? I had written it differently before but I made a lot of changes. And, boy, do I mean a LOT. First, it was longer and was more descriptive than my first one. I wanted to stop writing but I had to finish it. I am SO tired.

Review so she has something to look forward to tomorrow. Anything else, Maeven?

Zzzzzzzz…

_Didn't think so._


End file.
